


If I Stumble

by Annerb



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 21:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4721687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annerb/pseuds/Annerb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of the final battle, Ginny found her feet again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Stumble

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick little something written for hp shipweeks on tumblr.

Long after the battle ended, the castle fell quiet. Quiet other than the settling groans of the stones under stress, the shuffle of the injured, and the endless, endless grief. It raged silently through the space. Ginny felt the frightening press of it, as if allowing even a little in threatened to make everything else collapse. She didn’t bother trying to hold it off. She fell down with it, under the weight of her tears and her loss and her anger. She raged and hugged and demanded _why_. But that was okay. Because when it was done, she picked herself up off the floor.

She got back up, dammit.

She got back up and held her mum when it was time for her tears. She grabbed George’s shoulder, fingers digging in as if to remind him that there would be pain and sensation and hunger and love and even laughter again some day. That he didn’t die with Fred. That they wouldn’t let him fall down in that black hole without a fight.

She punched Percy hard in the arm, in that perfect spot that would leave his fingers numb and tingly for at least fifteen minutes. She called him a string of filthy names and then hugged him tight and kissed him and completely and utterly forgave him because he was her brother and she knew there would never be enough of those in the world ever again.

She sat next to Ron and just held his hand.

So yes, she fell apart. But she also held together. The war taught her that.

She was still sitting there, Bill’s shoulder under her head when Harry wandered into the Great Hall. Wander was really the only way to describe it, no matter how odd it felt because he had ever been a charging, striding, running, fighting thing. But now he was a bit aimless, as if he wasn’t sure where he was or what he was supposed to do after so long with a single goal in mind. It was finished, it was done. Everything now was ministry clean up and politics and adults treating them like children again even though they weren’t. Not anymore.

Everything about it was disorienting.

Only there was a future now, Ginny was certain of it. Nebulous and open and painful and so, so, so alive.

The war was finished and she was alive and so was Harry.

Squeezing Bill’s arm, Ginny pushed to her feet and walked across the hall, her feet adhering to a straight path defined by unrelenting purpose. She was only a few paces away when Harry finally noticed her, his face lifting. His jaw tightened, something relieved and simultaneously wary in his expression. She tried to imagine what she looked like to him, bruised and red-eyed and fiercely determined as she stormed towards him.

To her, he looked solid and real and alive and nothing else mattered.

As she neared, she didn’t stop, just caught his fingers and tugged gently, relieved when he didn’t make even a sound of protest, just turned and followed after her. She led him out into the corridor and into the first empty, mostly undamaged room she could find, closing the door behind them.

They regarded each other in the silence, their clasped hands still stretched between them. Ginny could only stare at him and wonder at how familiar he felt, even when everything about him seemed to have changed.

She felt for a moment the need to rage and cry again, to demand answers. She didn’t know if she should punch him like Percy or just weep on him like she did to Charlie.

“Ginny,” Harry said, as if this one word was the only one he had left. He loaded it with awkwardness and fear and yearning, and suddenly Ginny didn’t want answers. She just wanted him and his fingers warm in hers.

“We don’t have to do this,” she said.

His hand tightened around hers, fingers digging slightly in to the back of her hand. “Do what?”

“The awkwardness and explanations and justifications. We can just skip that part."

“Can we?” he asked, sounding like he couldn’t believe it could really be that easy.

She closed the distance between them and fell against him, her ear pressed against the steady beat of his heart. He breathed out, his arms wrapping around her. She could feel his face press against her hair, his hands firm against her back.

She ran her hand down his arm, her finger catching a ragged hole torn by some unknown event. “I guess I’m supposed to say I can’t just forget the last year happened, but I can. I really, really can.”

“When have you ever done what you were supposed to?” he said, his tone wry and warm, settling pleasantly in her stomach.

“Good point,” she said. “I could probably manage to yell, if you prefer.”

He leaned back to look at her, his hand touching her face. The affection in his eyes was almost too much to bear. “Maybe later,” he said.

And then he was kissing her and she was kissing him back and the long year and the keening castle and the fear and endless horror seemed to all drop away. It wasn’t the same, the feel of his lips on hers. She never expected it to be. But it still felt a lot more like coming home than it had any right to.

“Someday,” he said, his fingers brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I'll find a way to tell you all the things I've wanted to say.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “We have time. Don’t we?”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling her back into his chest. “We have lots of time.”

It sounded a bit like a promise.

He kissed her again, and she knew it wouldn’t always be enough, but right now with everything still raw and painful and nebulous, it was everything. A reminder, that there was a future now. That there would be Quidditch and laughter and foolishness and sunshine again.

She believed it.


End file.
